


Sugar Wassail

by McG



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Folk Music, Gen, Lewis Challenge: Christmas 2018, Lewis Winter Challenge 2018, Niche references to 90s kids' TV, morris dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-26 14:20:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17143352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McG/pseuds/McG
Summary: James and Robbie watch some Morris dancing and talk about their Christmas plans.





	Sugar Wassail

_A wassail, a wassail, a wassail we'll begin,_  
_With sugar strands and cinnamon, and other treasures in,_  
_With a wassail, a wassail, a jolly wassail,_  
_and may joy come to you and to our wassail._

It was four days until Christmas, and Robbie and James were standing on a cold street corner, breath fogging in the frigid air. The tip of James' nose was red, his hat pulled low and his scarf wrapped high, still failing to keep him warm enough. 

Robbie, in a puffy down-filled jacket wasn't faring much better. The frost on the ground glittered under the street lights. 

The small crowd gathered around Radcliffe Square were similarly bundled up, stamping feet and patting hands interrupting the otherwise quiet and attentive audience. 

On the temporary stage at one end of the square a troupe of morris dancers stood in position, ready to begin the next dance, their sticks poised in the air. The melodeonist drew out a long note by way of introduction, and then once again they were moving. Bells jingling on their legs, and the slight out of time crack of the sticks bashing together. Muffled scrapes and taps of feet occasionally heard above the music. 

They'd been lucky enough not to deal with any murders for a while now, though the paperwork and being borrowed by other CID investigations were starting to get dull. But finally, at three o'clock that afternoon, they were done and finished in time for a christmas break. With nowhere specific they needed to be, by mutual agreement they found themselves heading to the pub. Which was when they'd stumbled across the midwinter morris dancing performance and stopped to watch. 

"Did you know," James began, leaning in close so he could regale Robbie with his wisdom without disturbing the other people around, "that while many people think of morris dancing as integrally linked with May day celebrations and spring and summer months, that there's a long tradition of morris, mummers and guisers around Christmas time?" 

Robbie fixed him with a look, attempting to display scorn. 

"I've known about traditional English dancing for more years than you've had hot dinners. Anyway, I see your hankie-waving jingle bells and I raise you rapper sword dancing. Look it up." he nodded vaguely at James, intending to indicate that James should get out his phone and google the dance tradition. "Go on!" he encouraged again when James hesitated to follow the instruction. 

James was quiet for a moment while he searched the information, one thumb sticking out of his gloved hands in order to operate the touch screen. 

Despite his derisive comment, Robbie continued to watch the dancers, nodding his head in time with the music. 

"Ah, so it's geordie morris dancing then?" James asked, still in Robbie's personal space. 

Robbie elbowed him and made to move off in the direction of the pub again, James pocketing his phone and falling into step next to him as they headed under Hertford Bridge. 

"Want to hear a joke?" Robbie asked. James glaced across at him, quirking an enquiring eyebrow. "What's the difference between an onion and a melodeon?" 

"I don't know, sir, what _is_ the difference between an onion and a melodeon?"

"Nobody cries when you cut up a melodeon." 

James snorted despite himself, surprised at Robbie's previously unrevealed knowledge of folk music and dancing more than at the quality of the joke itself. 

"I wouldn't have had you down as a traditional dance enthusiast," James admitted. 

"Ah, well. My misspent youth, sergeant." 

"You-- You were in a sword dancing group?" James asked. 

Robbie managed to keep a straight face for a moment, but cracked and dissolved into laughter. 

"No - that was all university lads. Wouldn't have caught the likes of me getting involved." he paused for a beat. "We just used to follow their Christmas pub crawl."

"Now that sounds more like it." James said, as they themselves arrived at the pub, crossing the small courtyard and making for the side door. 

There was a pause in conversation while they dealt with the immediate priorities of what they were drinking and whose round it was, and where they would sit. 

Finally they were settled in at a small corner table, with pints, and a couple of Christmas tree-shaped ginger biscuits ( _"All proceeds go to a good cause, chaps. Perfect accompaniment to your beer,"_ the barman had assured them.). 

"So tell me about this pub crawl then?" James asked. 

"What's to tell? Five adult men wearing waistcoats with rosettes and sashes, drinking in some of the roughest pubs in Newcastle, and then doing a fast, intricate dance in any corner of the pub possible, while getting increasingly intoxicated. It was great fun."

"And how did you know about it?" 

Robbie shrugged. 

"I grew up in Byker; Shields Road's just where we drank."

James paused as a thought occurred to him. 

"You grew up in Byker, sir? Do you know Ant and Dec?" he asked, his face deadpan though Robbie could see the laughter in his eyes. 

"Howay, man, they're your age! Now Geoff, on the other hand…" he trailed off, grinning. 

James grinned down into his pint in response, failing to hide his amusement. 

"Anyway," Robbie continued, "Byker Grove was filmed in Benwell, not Byker at all."

"You really are a font of knowledge this evening, aren't you?" James observed. 

He leant back in his chair and looked out over Robbie's shoulder and out the window. 

"Look; snow." he murmured quietly, transfixed as the frigid night had shifted towards a magical christmas scene in the time it'd taken them to get some drinks. 

Robbie twisted around to watch the fat flakes drifting down in the pool of light from the street lamp outside the pub window. 

"Roads'll be a mess, later," Robbie said quietly after a while. 

"Worth it," James said. He inhaled sharply and drew his gaze back into the room, looking away from the falling snow, and down at the beer mat on the table. He started to pick at the corner, snapping and crumbling it. He was captivated by the snow, but it left him feeling strange. Something like nostalgia mixed with longing, but he was unsure what he was feeling it for. Just a strange twist of melancholy that the snow brought. 

Easier to avoid it. You never knew where it might lead you if you left yourself open to things like that. 

"What are your plans for Christmas?" Robbie asked him, seemingly aware of the shift in mood. He seemed to have a knack for recognising some change in James' demeanour and responding in kind, keeping the conversation easy and light. 

James shrugged. 

"Drinks on Christmas Eve with the guys from my band." he offered. 

The omission of Christmas Day echoed loudly in the silence. 

"I'm driving back down on Boxing Day," Robbie told him. "Fancy a pint when I get back? Make the most of it before we're back at work…?" 

James studied him intently for a moment, then ducked his head in a nod. A small, private smile on his lips. 

"I'd like that. Thank you."

**Author's Note:**

> Refs:  
> https://themorrisring.org/traditional-morris-events/traditional-morris-events-christmas  
> http://www.rapper.org.uk/teams/profiles/kingsmen.php  
> http://www.rapper.org.uk/teams/profiles/sallyport.php  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Byker_Grove


End file.
